*The flight out of Obichen had been long, hours long; Samus may have had passenger seats installed, but neither she nor her diplomatic associate could do anything about the traffic
( Read more... )
Telrim’s done a lot of waiting in her time. A few hours in Samus’s ship is parsecs better than a few months in a tank - she can even tell herself that she’s had worse destinations. Whatever’s waiting for them can’t be as bad as the Taxxon tunnels. But thinking like that makes her regret again her lack of weapons, or equipment to check over… or even a body suited for combat. Even making the usual kind of conversation is difficult, so she’s glad Samus chooses to distract them all
( ... )
Aurora also listens to the story with a sympathetic air, being unfamiliar with this side of the Hunter. Her expression flickers a few times, usually in the moment between a question forming and it being suppressed for another time; and once a moment before the ship PINpoints away from her home (this last flicker looking very much like someone ripping off a bandaid).
And then it's time to be professional again. Her face settles into the familiar lines of calm friendliness that so many species find reassuring in a humanoid, and she takes in the details of the exchange with the NovaBurst. There is much to learn, and little time in which to observe and reflect--and no chance to back out.
While they're waiting for their hosts to respond again, she'd lean toward Telrim/Natasha slightly. "Samus is very protective of her friends. She wouldn't have brought either of us here if she didn't believe we would be safe."
*Muting the comm line, Samus' next words are addressed to her companions--all three of them.*
If anyone tries to hurt you, they'll have to deal with me.
*Samus' promise is delivered with the kind of firmness mountains are founded on. For all the confidence in her voice, though, she keeps a close eye on her sensors, a light touch on the throttle. If someone in the fleet is going to decide to swat them out of the sky, it'll be now, while her ship is moving slowly and on a predictable vector. While she hopes anyone treacherous would use a weapon that paints a target and waits for signal lock, she knows they might shoot from the hip, with no more warning than a half-second's power spike in which to react. It's with nerves taut as harpstrings under a facade of calm confidence that she watches the fleet grow nearer.*
*She brazened through this once, she can do it again.*
"I know. I'm not afraid for our physical safety." Telrim's eyes are locked on those ships. "At least, not as much as I should be."
That's why you made Issek stay behind? Natasha asks.
I can't protect him here- not even Samus could protect him from himself. If it's a lie, she'd rather not find out. They're in range of more than one Dome ship now, and the great mushroom-shaped capital ships are sweeping sensors their way. Telrim reminds herself to ignore them. They can't turn weapons this way, not as they are. The smaller assault ships and fighter craft, on the other hand...
But before anyone with maneuvrability can find out who's on the doorstep, the flagship responds again. < You have permission to dock, Samus Aran. Transmitting protocols now. Our fighters will escort you to the designated landing bay. Can you acknowledge? > the officer adds, as a hurried afterthought. He's feeling a particular need for clarity with this visitor.
Telrim gives a low 'hnh' that might translate as Oh, wonderful.
Nobody wants to deal with Samus, especially when she's wound up. And yet Aurora is studying her with a careful but familiar gaze. It's always good to have a sense of her mood at the beginning of an encounter--it gives the observant more time to run.
After a moment, Telrim/Natasha gets a sympathetic look and a nod. "It's always hard to stop seeing someone as an enemy and start seeing them as a person. But once you do, things really become a lot more clear."
*Samus is a mixed impression, for those who know how to read her. There are people ahead whom she respects, and more--that she likes and even trusts. But there are cracks in their society, and their command structure, and she can't be certain that someone won't give into the impulse to wipe away this one little blot on Andalite honor, or remove the "malign alien influence" from their commanding officer before things get any worse. Walking calmly in, as if those threats don't exist, is far more nerve-wracking for her than an honest fight would be.*
*A little of the tension Samus had been holding drains out of her at the acknowledgment, however. If anyone were going to try anything, they won't now--too many eyes are on her now for a lone agent with a vendetta to get away with it, and Andalite high command doesn't hate her enough to make killing her worth blowing anyone's cover. Yet.*Acknowledged, NovaBurst, heading accepted. Please relay my compliments to Force Commander Elmand, and that of my passengers, and a request for a meeting at
( ... )
That was more painless than Telrim expected. No trying to force Samus to beg her way aboard. No time wasted on questions. The bridge officer is practically courteous. Samus must have them terrified. Or else the captain wants her back on board his ship as fast as possible, which makes the Yeerk wonder...
Staring at the ships around them isn't making her feel any better, whatever their commander's real motives. She pulls her gaze away, looking to Aurora instead. "Clearer? You think so?"
< I will inform him, > the Andalite replies. < Can you identify the number and nature of your passengers? >
She glances at the escort, but it doesn't seem to interest her much. Instead, she'll give Telrim/Natasha a reassuring smile. "People have rights," she explains quietly. "In order to think well about oneself, a civilized being has to treat other people well. And with the options narrowed, making a decision becomes easier."
"You assume enemies have the same rights as other people," Telrim observes quietly. It's the kind of assumption Natasha makes. "But dealing with them as individuals doesn't change what they are. It does tend to make matters personal. And that gets... messy."
Take herself, now. She's well aware that recent events are clouding her judgement here. She hates it. She hates more that she can't tell which way she's being biased, whether terror of her own mistakes is making her try too hard to salvage them, or if raw hatred of their enemy is preventing her from using the Andalites as she ought to.
It's not often one regrets having no visser to obey.
Speaking of messy- Samus had to tell them, of course. It's polite. Diplomatic. Telrim's giving her a wary stare anyway. There's a stifled sort of response from the comm, like a telepathic sputter. Then an awkward pause while the officer forces down his own reaction and makes some careful decisions about how to relay this news. Starting with 'not to the fighter pilots'.
"People are people," she maintains quietly, as her gaze also shifts to Samus. This is not the sort of reception diplomats dream about, but it could be worse.
Still, diplomacy is also not the Hunter's greatest talent. Aurora unfastens her safety harness so that she can move to address the Andalites. "If I may be so bold," this with a glance to Samus that reads clearly as warning she's going to anyway, "as to suggest that diplomacy is easier when both sides are at the table?"
*Samus has to admit, to herself at least, that the splutter is just a little bit entertaining. She likes keeping people off-balance, probably more than she should, and she also enjoys putting these Andalites in positions where they have to rein in the knee-jerk reactions that would normally be considered a celebrated part of their culture. Yeah, there's a Yeerk on this ship, and they're here for a ten-thirty with management. Choke on it.*
*But any answer she might make is preempted by Aurora who, on the barest fraction of an instant's reflection, gets a smile and a grateful nod. Samus contracted her to be a diplomat, best to give her room and let her work.*
Telrim's gaze shifts to Aurora as she steps in. It's instructive to watch her allies' silent communication with one another. It also helps to take her mind off the fact she's listening to thought-speak and let her analyse what's being said.
< May I ask who is speaking? > The Andalite's tone is frosty on principle, despite the uncertain undertone. He's trying to figure out exactly who's on the other end, he just wants to stay perfectly aloof while doing it. Telrim lets out a tiny snort.
"He thinks you're the Controller," she remarks quietly. And Telrim can kind of see why he'd expect it, but really, Aurora's tone is all wrong.
Aurora gives Telrim/Natasha a nod of thanks before addressing the Andalites again. "My name is Aurora Lionne. Hunter Aran has asked me to help mediate between your people and the Yeerk." She keeps her tone calm, light, and a little deferential. "I would be happy to discuss my credentials after you've run your scans."
*Samus' mouth gives an approving twitch. When she'd spoken of Aurora's skills to Telrim earlier, she hadn't been exaggerating. She's going to enjoy seeing the young woman's finesse at work. She divides her attention between enjoying the show and keeping them steady on course, framed by their escort.*
The fighters have settled neatly around them; whatever their skills in combat, the pilots are precise formation fliers. Which just makes it more noticeable when one or two of them swing too close with active sensors on full power, jostling more to make a point than to cause actual hindrance. Whoever's commanding isn't feeling playful: they're soon ordered to get back in position and stay there.
< ...I see. > The stiffness in the Andalite voice has cracked; he's just trying not to sound off-balance now. Telrim laughs silently. He might prefer to back down while he can, but something compels him to persist a bit further. < And the Yeerk... accompanying you? >
Well, that's a nuisance. Telrim's moment of amusement is over; she gives Aurora an enquiring look. Would their diplomat like her to take that one? Is it considered wise?
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And then it's time to be professional again. Her face settles into the familiar lines of calm friendliness that so many species find reassuring in a humanoid, and she takes in the details of the exchange with the NovaBurst. There is much to learn, and little time in which to observe and reflect--and no chance to back out.
While they're waiting for their hosts to respond again, she'd lean toward Telrim/Natasha slightly. "Samus is very protective of her friends. She wouldn't have brought either of us here if she didn't believe we would be safe."
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*Muting the comm line, Samus' next words are addressed to her companions--all three of them.*
If anyone tries to hurt you, they'll have to deal with me.
*Samus' promise is delivered with the kind of firmness mountains are founded on. For all the confidence in her voice, though, she keeps a close eye on her sensors, a light touch on the throttle. If someone in the fleet is going to decide to swat them out of the sky, it'll be now, while her ship is moving slowly and on a predictable vector. While she hopes anyone treacherous would use a weapon that paints a target and waits for signal lock, she knows they might shoot from the hip, with no more warning than a half-second's power spike in which to react. It's with nerves taut as harpstrings under a facade of calm confidence that she watches the fleet grow nearer.*
*She brazened through this once, she can do it again.*
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That's why you made Issek stay behind? Natasha asks.
I can't protect him here- not even Samus could protect him from himself. If it's a lie, she'd rather not find out. They're in range of more than one Dome ship now, and the great mushroom-shaped capital ships are sweeping sensors their way. Telrim reminds herself to ignore them. They can't turn weapons this way, not as they are. The smaller assault ships and fighter craft, on the other hand...
But before anyone with maneuvrability can find out who's on the doorstep, the flagship responds again. < You have permission to dock, Samus Aran. Transmitting protocols now. Our fighters will escort you to the designated landing bay. Can you acknowledge? > the officer adds, as a hurried afterthought. He's feeling a particular need for clarity with this visitor.
Telrim gives a low 'hnh' that might translate as Oh, wonderful.
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After a moment, Telrim/Natasha gets a sympathetic look and a nod. "It's always hard to stop seeing someone as an enemy and start seeing them as a person. But once you do, things really become a lot more clear."
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*A little of the tension Samus had been holding drains out of her at the acknowledgment, however. If anyone were going to try anything, they won't now--too many eyes are on her now for a lone agent with a vendetta to get away with it, and Andalite high command doesn't hate her enough to make killing her worth blowing anyone's cover. Yet.*Acknowledged, NovaBurst, heading accepted. Please relay my compliments to Force Commander Elmand, and that of my passengers, and a request for a meeting at ( ... )
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Staring at the ships around them isn't making her feel any better, whatever their commander's real motives. She pulls her gaze away, looking to Aurora instead. "Clearer? You think so?"
< I will inform him, > the Andalite replies. < Can you identify the number and nature of your passengers? >
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Three: two humans, one hosting a Yeerk symbiont.
*And her gaze is back on the sensors, watching for the telltale power spikes of weapons about to fire.*
And some visual aids for the meeting.
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Take herself, now. She's well aware that recent events are clouding her judgement here. She hates it. She hates more that she can't tell which way she's being biased, whether terror of her own mistakes is making her try too hard to salvage them, or if raw hatred of their enemy is preventing her from using the Andalites as she ought to.
It's not often one regrets having no visser to obey.
Speaking of messy- Samus had to tell them, of course. It's polite. Diplomatic. Telrim's giving her a wary stare anyway. There's a stifled sort of response from the comm, like a telepathic sputter. Then an awkward pause while the officer forces down his own reaction and makes some careful decisions about how to relay this news. Starting with 'not to the fighter pilots'.
< You intend to bring a ( ... )
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Still, diplomacy is also not the Hunter's greatest talent. Aurora unfastens her safety harness so that she can move to address the Andalites. "If I may be so bold," this with a glance to Samus that reads clearly as warning she's going to anyway, "as to suggest that diplomacy is easier when both sides are at the table?"
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*But any answer she might make is preempted by Aurora who, on the barest fraction of an instant's reflection, gets a smile and a grateful nod. Samus contracted her to be a diplomat, best to give her room and let her work.*
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< May I ask who is speaking? > The Andalite's tone is frosty on principle, despite the uncertain undertone. He's trying to figure out exactly who's on the other end, he just wants to stay perfectly aloof while doing it. Telrim lets out a tiny snort.
"He thinks you're the Controller," she remarks quietly. And Telrim can kind of see why he'd expect it, but really, Aurora's tone is all wrong.
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< ...I see. > The stiffness in the Andalite voice has cracked; he's just trying not to sound off-balance now. Telrim laughs silently. He might prefer to back down while he can, but something compels him to persist a bit further. < And the Yeerk... accompanying you? >
Well, that's a nuisance. Telrim's moment of amusement is over; she gives Aurora an enquiring look. Would their diplomat like her to take that one? Is it considered wise?
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